The rest of the occupants of Flat 47 left this morning to Nottingham. And so, I'm left here alone at home to bubble and simmer away in a flat-ful of thoughts and empty songs, my usual three shot coffee by my side. I haven't written or done anything of this sort in a while. Christmas is near and I am dying for time to pass by more swiftly. What I wouldn't do to have the oppressive burden of a guilty conscience not bearing down upon my (literally) aching shoulders.
My first term routine of living off three hours of sleep and twice weekly exercise has left me in a dribbling mess of snot and general all around knackeredness. Getting sick can be good for you sometimes, gives you an actual excuse proper to skive class and sleep in.
I think today might be one of those days when I feel like I'm done with being iconoclastic.
It's a nice feeling.
I think I owe it to the blueberry muffin I'm eating.
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